I wish I hadn’t been driving and had my camera out when Thomas saw the population sign for Loyall. Absolute pricelessness. He saw the sign, and I slowed down so he could read it, “Pop-yoo-lay-shun…Am I reading that right?” — look of abject horror on his face — “766?!” Yes, honey, you’re reading it right. “Are you sure?” Yes, honey. During the last census, it was my job to map and collect addresses in Loyall. “Oh. It’s right then.”
scene from harlan county, nov 2009
Published by Mari Adkins
Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I Sim, I TikTok, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my life partner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood. View all posts by Mari Adkins
Fragile Winds 